"Nor should we pass the secret cell, / Where lonely Science loves to dwell, / Pleas'd, from its lamp, to cast the ray / That lights the mind's beclouded day."
— Combe, William (1742 -1823)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Published by R. Ackerman [etc.]
Date
1817
Metaphor
"Nor should we pass the secret cell, / Where lonely Science loves to dwell, / Pleas'd, from its lamp, to cast the ray / That lights the mind's beclouded day."
Metaphor in Context
But still the higher duties move,
To trace the philosophic grove,
Which Wisdom's sons are known to love:
Where studious thought delights to plan
The happiness of social man;
And, passion's active flame suppress'd,
To plant each virtue in the breast.
Nor should we pass the secret cell,
Where lonely Science loves to dwell,
Pleas'd, from its lamp, to cast the ray
That lights the mind's beclouded day.
Nor can we fail with awe to bless
That certain source of happiness,
The altar's form on which we read
The good man's hope, the Christian's creed;
Tells the best joys to mortals given,
And shews the path that leads to Heaven.
To trace the philosophic grove,
Which Wisdom's sons are known to love:
Where studious thought delights to plan
The happiness of social man;
And, passion's active flame suppress'd,
To plant each virtue in the breast.
Nor should we pass the secret cell,
Where lonely Science loves to dwell,
Pleas'd, from its lamp, to cast the ray
That lights the mind's beclouded day.
Nor can we fail with awe to bless
That certain source of happiness,
The altar's form on which we read
The good man's hope, the Christian's creed;
Tells the best joys to mortals given,
And shews the path that leads to Heaven.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "breast" and "cell" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
06/12/2005
